The piece of junk quad jumper that you commandeered off the surface of Sundari groans in protest as it skids into the rebel cruiser with far, far too much momentum. You squeeze your eyes shut as you yank back on the brakes, knuckles whitening, palms sweating, and your legs shaking in a strenuous effort to slow down the ship. You're coming in way too hot. Way, way, way too hot!
"Karking, mudscuffer!" You shout to yourself as the ship slams against the hangar wall. The jolt of the impact gives you whiplash, making you grunt unhappily as a sharp pain shoots through your neck into the base of your skull. You carefully open one of your eyelids to peek at the wall and the nose of your ship jumbled together in a mess of sparks, smoke, and crushed metal.
Ah well.
Not my ship. Not my hangar.
You hop down from the malfunctioning ramp to begin sleuthing towards the interior of the cruiser. This isn't exactly the low profile arrival you had hoped to achieve, but everyone seems far more preoccupied with the multiple TIE fighters currently shooting up the cruiser's deck cannons to really notice you and your disastrous landing. It's absolute chaos in the hangar as Mandalorians run around you left and right, dashing for their starfighters in a panicked attempt to stop the TIEs. Nobody seems prepared for an assault, probably because the fleet has been able to stay hidden from the Empire for a few days. It's a perfect distraction for you, and you only feel a little bad that you were the one who led the Imps to the cruiser in the first place. It was, in total honesty, a miracle that you had survived the Imperial blockade at all. Since the war began, you had never been up to the space battle raging above Mandalore, which is probably why you were dumb enough to try breaking through a barricade in an unarmed quad jumper designed to transport Imperial rations in the first place.
You only have to stop once to give clearance codes to a Mandalorian who is unenthusiastically guarding the turbo lift, which allows you to enter the main corridor of the cruiser quicker than you expected. The bored soldier barely acknowledged you, and his lack of interest in his post deterred him from actually running the fake codes you provided him. It was a lucky encounter since you aren't exactly authorized to be on board the cruiser. You pause in the corridor, unsure of where to go next. Your vision didn't exactly show you impeccable detail on Mando's exact location. Something tells you it's not the bridge, nor the security room. Perhaps the officer's meeting room. The sentry standing there, proudly donning a Night Owl signet gives you all the proof you need. It's rather suspicious that in the midst of an Imperial assault a single soldier would be uselessly guarding an unoccupied meeting room.
Idiots.
You stalk towards the Mandalorian and spin him around into an unbreakable elbow chokehold before he has the chance to put up a fight. Applying just the right amount of pressure in just the right spot, you render the man unconscious in a matter of seconds. As soon as someone sees him, they will enter the room with their blasters readied, but you don't really have time to hide the body right now. The moment of betrayal is upon Mando, you know by the way the internal alarms in your head approach a crescendo of warning telling you that his impending doom is evident.
With vigor, you push the button to open the door of the room and step inside to see Bo-Katan's knife moving towards the gap in Mando's armor between his chest plate and helmet. Your laser focus slows time down and your breath is so loud in your ears that the movement of air in and out of your lungs is the only thing you are able to hear as you raise your hand to freeze Bo's arm.
"Hut'uun," you grit the insult through your teeth as Bo's hand trembles against the unseeable wall blocking her deadly strike.
Holding someone like this through the Force is extremely arduous and beads of sweat collect on your temples as you center all your attention on her armed vambrace inches away from the Mandalorian's throat. Bo stutters as she fights your manipulation, her helmet swiveling back and forth from her intended target to your crimson helmet. Mando fumbles backward, his visor also switching back and forth between Bo's extended knife and your unannounced presence in the room. His astonishment is cut short as he reaches into his holster to arm himself with his trusty blaster. You are grateful that his sharp mind pieces together the puzzle in front of him before you have to explain yourself.
"You would strike me down while my back was turned?" Disappointed anger seeps through his modulator as he aims his blaster at Bo-Katan.
"I warned you about her," you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you lift Bo's feet off the ground in a deliciously satisfying Force choke.
She paws at her neck, desperation evident in the way her legs twitch violently underneath her body. The shadow in your mind laughs at her feebleness against your power and it urges you to end her pathetic struggle with a simple snap of her neck. You shudder against the temptation, but you also can't find the resolve to lower her back to safety yet. Mando's muffled voice begins speaking to you heatedly, but you are unable to decipher his pleas as the thirst for vengeance drenches your self-control. The ongoing effort should be taxing, but as your anger bleeds inside of yoy, you feel more and more powerful with every second that ticks by.
It's only the sudden need for self-preservation that releases you from the black hole that is your hatred. The door behind you opens and a flock of Bo's Night Owls rushes into the room to surround you, Mando, and Bo-Katan.
Guess they finally noticed you.
The distraction causes you to unceremoniously drop Bo onto the floor, and the sound of her beskar helmet colliding with the hard surface creates a loud clang that juxtaposes with the lethal silence between you and her loyalists.
The pause between everyone as the Night Owls assess the situation is almost comical to you. You force yourself to stifle a giggle attempting to escape out your mouth at how ridiculous the whole situation is. Why do you always feel the need to laugh at the most inappropriate moments? It doesn't take long for the mood in the air to shift, and in the time it takes for the Mandalorians to tighten their grip around their blasters so their fingers can apply pressure to the triggers, your bronze blade is off your hip and equipped in your grip, already swinging towards the sudden rain of red bolts barreling towards you. Most of the shots ricochet of your blade, landing back into the Mandalorians' beskar like hail pelting against the roof of a metal building. While her soldiers focus their firepower on you, Bo-Katan finally finds the courage to go toe to toe with the Mand'alor herself. You're curious as to how the fight is going to turn out as you spy her peeling herself off the floor and rolling her shoulders back confidently. Impatience gives you unparalleled precision as you return your attention back to your own problems. With practiced ease, you render the Night Owls unconscious one by one. In your eagerness to check on how the duel is fairing, you miss the fallen soldier laying behind you, lining up a perfect shot, and firing with excellent aim towards a weak spot in Mando's armor. The soldier lands the unforgiving shot right above Mando's knee, causing him to collapse instantly with a string of curses. You turn around to kick the Night Owl's weapon from his hand before slamming him against the wall roughly. Meanwhile, Bo-Katan doesn't miss her advantageous opportunity, and she smacks Mando across the helmet with such force that he twists in the air as he falls onto his stomach against the floor.
You wince as Bo stomps on his wrist vambrace with all her weight before bending down to snatch the Darksaber out of his limp hand. She studies the weapon like it's a gift from the Maker himself. You are sure that if she wasn't wearing a helmet, you would see a malicious smile painted on her features.
"I'd hardly call that an honorable duel. You had help," you growl as you take a threatening step towards her.
Her helmet snaps up to face you square on, but you feel her confidence falter as she regards your still ignited lightsaber. She knows she doesn't stand a chance against you. Her feigned confidence doesn't fool you, but you also know that her fear won't prevent her from trying to put up a decent fight.
"You are not a Mandalorian. You disgrace our armor, you Sith," she spits the last word out like it's the vilest thing she's ever had to say.
Mando begins struggling to his feet, his hand pressed firmly against the fresh wound on his leg. He breathes heavily as he pinpoints his visor on Bo-Katan gloating in front of him. His anger and frustration are tangible through the layers of silver beskar. For a moment, it feels as if you are standing in the eye of an atmospheric storm. Everything is bizarrely calm, slow, even lackadaisical. The future is now clouded with possibilities and indecision, making you feel suspended in time as your heart beats to a steady rhythm.
What now?
Just as a storm can change with the slightest shift of a breeze, the stillness in the room combusts into complete mayhem as more Night Owls file into the room, blasters blazing erratically. In the split second that you make the decision to attack Bo, your brain reminds you that dueling her has consequences far beyond defeating an old enemy and protecting Mando. Unfortunately, it's too late to second guess your move as she ignites the Darksaber and thrusts the weapon towards your approaching blade.
You roll underneath her attack, moving to stand behind Mando so you can help him fend off the Night Owls who are inundating him with knives and melee weapons. He impresses you with his ability to stand his ground with the blaster wound, since you know it must be hurting him badly. You disable one of the Mandalorians with a Force shove just at the same time Bo moves to slash Mando across the chest plate with the blade of the Darksaber. It's enough to knock him back onto the floor, setting every instinct in your heart to protect him aflame. Your passion drives you as you leap in front of Bo, stopping her next blow with your own saber. In three calculated moves, you have your weapon at her throat and a hand around her vambrace in a crushing grip. The Darksaber drops from her glove as you knee the side of her stomach. Before the weapon hits the floor, you catch it and ignite the ebony blade. The two sabers thrum in unison as you cross the blades in front of her throat. You curl your lip up at the sight of her helmet trapped between the two exquisite colors.
"Yield," you bark.
All the fighting in the room stops at the sound of your voice giving the stern order. Every helmets turn towards you, and you feel the room suck in a collective breath, unsure of whether or not you will go through with the brutal execution.
You want to. Oh, you want to so much that you shake with anticipation.
But then Mando places a gloved hand on your calf with such tenderness and ease that you feel all the rage inside your heart retreat out of you instantly, like the waves of a sea retreating into the ocean during a lowering tide.
You cannot do it. You will not do it.
Your thumbs slide down with the buttons on the hilts, extinguishing the sabers in a vow of peace more meaningful than any words you could ever dream of conjuring up. The adrenaline from the last few hours hits you like a pile of beskar ingots, causing your knees to buckle underneath your weight. Your eyes stare glassily at the two weapons in your hands as you drop your shoulders in disbelief and fatigue. The reality of the situation chills your blood as guilt begins to gnaw insidiously at your conscience.
"I…" you begin to choke out an apology to Mando, but the words die on your tongue as soon as he places a heavy hand on your shoulder.
It's deafening, the silence in the room, as every Mandalorian stares at you in complete horror.
Where do you go from here?
"Take off the helmet," one of the Night Owls demands as he removes his own helm to glare at you.
Mando tightens his grip on your shoulder, "She cannot. It is not our Way."
Bo snarls as clambers to her feet, chest heaving, "She is a pretender. We know who you really are. Take. Off. The. Armor."
Hot, angry tears stain your cheeks as you compliantly slide the helmet off your head. You look up into Bo's eyes as she stares coldly back at you.
She lowers her voice, "I will never bow to you. You have no right to wield that weapon!" She shifts her scowl towards Mando, "And you, you lied to me. You chose a Sith over your own vod. Do you even know who she really is? Where she comes from? You had no right to bring an aruetii into this."
You rise from your knees, gathering your patience with a deep breath as you step forward into Bo's personal space, "You were the one about to betray your Mand'alor. You are a traitor. I have helped Mandalore countless times, in ways you don't even know, and I have never asked for anything in return."
Turning and taking Mando's gloved hand in your own, you lift him onto his feet before firmly pressing the hilt of the Darksaber into his grasp.
"He cannot accept it," the Night Owl who spoke earlier growls at you.
You glower at the man, hand still enveloped in Mando's warm glove, "Well, what do you propose? Do you want to duel me?"
The soldier doesn't get the opportunity to answer you, as suddenly all of the alarms on the cruiser begin wailing fervently as the ground under your feet starts shaking violently.
"We are under attack," Bo announces with wide eyes.
The familiar sound of bombs detonating in the distance startles you, and you begin instinctively sprinting towards the main corridor to get to the bridge to lend assistance. Most likely, one of the TIEs was able to successfully report the rebel fleet's hiding spot behind Mandalore's second moon. You chew your lip knowing that you are responsible for this mess. The TIEs were following you. Once on the bridge, you see that it's a Star Destroyer firing upon the rebel cruiser. It is landing shots that are weakening the structural integrity much quicker than you would've hoped to see.
The shields must be failing.
"Everyone has to abandon ship," you tell Mando as you start checking all the sensors on the main console.
You were right, the shields are completely destroyed, and most of the weapons systems are failing as well. The cruiser will be dead in space soon.
"I'll tell the rest of the fleet to jump to new coordinates," Mando says as he begins commanding orders into multiple comms.
Bo is right by your side, monitoring the escape pod ejections and sending warnings to the rebels on Keldabe as you slice through the safety protocols of the ship's navigation system. A tiny part of you is impressed with how easily the three of you can work together in the crisis, despite being at each other's throats less than five seconds ago.
You punch coordinates into the nav console before tugging Mando's arm towards the blast doors, "We need to leave now."
The three of you make your way to the hangar (which is on fire in multiple places) and you curse when you see that the only ship left to take is the kriffing quad jumper you crash landed earlier.
Well, beggars can't be choosers.
You climb into the hatch and hurry towards the cockpit, praying that the garbage ship is capable of flying still. Her engines fire up, much to your surprise, and she begins limping out of the hangar into open space without too much turbulence. You have to make considerable adjustments to keep her functioning, but a lifetime of piloting has you well equipped to deal with all the issues with no problem. Mando drops down into the co-pilot seat and stares at you while you fly away from the rebel cruiser being demolished in the distance. Bo joins the two of you after a minute, arriving just in time to watch the cruiser make a hyperspace jump directly into the Star Destroyer's coordinates. The shockwave from the impact rattles the quad jumper while the brilliant, bright light from the collision temporarily blinds the three of you.
After a moment, you shyly turn towards Mando, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes, "Should we rejoin the fleet?"
Bo gestures towards the debris of the two ships in the distance, "Did you do that?"
You nod once, avoiding her stare as you keep your eyes trained on Mando's visor. She makes a sound of begrudging approval but doesn't say anything more.
Mando shakes his head slowly before pressing some blinking buttons demanding attention on the console. An uncomfortable silence settles between the three of you and your palms begin to sweat through the confinement of your leather gloves. A loud sigh finally slips out of Mando's helmet while he leans back into his chair.
Tilting his helmet thoughtfully, he leans forward to look closely at you, "We won't rejoin the fleet right now. I think we should go back to base... so everyone can meet their new Mand'alor."
